Nothing smells better in the morning than a fresh cup of coffee in the kitchen. The Graciosa Mistress of the parish house has configured it so that at a certain time in the morning, the coffee begins to prepare and we wake up with that wonderful aroma.

I love my coffee in the morning and nothing puts me on the road better.

I had a little bug last week. I had to go in for my yearly blood work. If you have ever had blood drawn, you know not to eat or drink anything after midnight so that the correct blood sample can be taken. Even Count Dracula wasn’t that picky!

I didn’t think about it until I woke up that morning, the coffee was brewing, the aroma filled the house and I was ready for my first cup of coffee of the day. So my wife looked at me and said, “Don’t you have a blood test this morning?”

My heart sank to the bottom of my feet. How can I start the day without my morning cup of Joe?

When I went to the doctor’s office that morning, I told the nurse, “You are the bravest person I know.”

She looked at me quite curiously and I explained. “Not drinking my morning coffee makes me an angry curmudgeon.” And I was serious.

She laughed and said, “That may be true, but I have the needle that I’m going to stick in your arm.” With that, she laughed, but I didn’t smile back.

Leaving the doctor’s office, I went straight to McDonald’s for a cup of coffee. How I got there, I’ll never know. After several sips of coffee, I seemed to calm down and become a pretty decent person. Or so I think.

I’m not quite sure where I learned to love coffee so much. Growing up, my parents drank coffee, but it was that terrible instant coffee. How anyone can drink that is beyond me. For a long time I thought that’s how coffee tasted and I wanted nothing to do with it.

I clearly remember the first time I had a real cup of coffee.

I was helping my grandfather with a yard job and about mid-morning he looked at me and said, “Son, how old are you?”

I thought it was silly for my grandfather to ask, but I responded with a cheerful “I’m 14 years old, Grandpa.”

“That’s good,” he said smiling at me, “you’re old enough for a real coffee, let’s go in.”

That’s when I met real coffee. To this day, I’m not quite sure how he did it, but I know he put a lot of energy into his coffee. It was coffee brewed on an old wood stove in the kitchen.

So my love for coffee I owe to my grandfather who knew how to make real coffee and not that artificial instant coffee my parents made.

Since then, I have been enjoying coffee and perhaps, as my wife says, I have been enjoying it too much.

Not long ago, mid-morning, he looked at me over a cup of coffee and asked me a strange question. “How much coffee have you had today?”

For the life of me, I’m not sure why you asked that question, because no one can drink too much coffee.

Not knowing how to respond, I said very carefully, “This is the only cup of coffee I remember having today.”

I find it wonderful to grow old when you can blame everything on old age and forgetting things.

“I’m not so sure,” she said hesitantly, “this is the third cup of coffee I’ve made today.”

After all, who counts how much coffee they drink. One cup is as good as another cup. I’m not the kind of person who discriminates for anything, especially coffee. Of course, if it’s instant coffee, then I’ll discriminate.

“I think,” she said seriously, “that you’re a coffee addict.”

That surprised me quite a bit because I had never heard that word before. I am something of a wordsmith and enjoy words and phrases but this word Coffeeholic I have never heard before. At first, I thought maybe he was making it up. After a little research, there is such a word.

She wasn’t done with her small talk about coffee: “I think you’re drinking too much coffee and you should consider cutting back a bit. Caffeine isn’t good for you.”

I’m not sure where all that came from, but I’ll “think” about what you just said. I don’t plan on doing anything about it, because I think she wouldn’t want to be around someone like me who hasn’t had her coffee for the day.

I have so many other things to think about, as the apostle Paul said: “Finally, brothers, whatever things are true, whatever things are honest, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are which is of good report; if there is any virtue, and if any praise, think of these things” (Philippians 4:8).

This is what I’m going to be thinking about, but not cutting back on my coffee.